This all began in the distant darkness of the Underground.
It started when Moradin, the god of the Dwarves, issued an oracle to all his people, urging them to migrate to the Surface.
Many Dwarf Clans heeded the oracle and began their migration to the Surface.
Others, however, were unwilling to abandon their well-established homes and mines. They either dragged their feet or stubbornly remained in the Underground.
Not long after, in the years that followed, the world was rocked by a series of massive earthquakes.
Countless Underground Cities suffered devastating damage. Tunnels that had been in use for centuries were blocked by cave-ins, and even Magic and Inscriptions could no longer guarantee the safety and stability of the subterranean settlements.
Most of the Dwarves who had escaped to the Surface were spared.
Those who remained in the Underground, however, were not so lucky.
Some of them migrated even deeper into the earth, while others suffered immense losses, with some clans facing complete annihilation.
No one knows exactly what fate befell the Dwarf Clans trapped in the Underground, only that the notorious Gray Dwarves emerged during this era.
Fortunately, the Shadow Anvil Clan survived.
Unfortunately, of a massive clan once tens of thousands strong, only a few hundred escaped to the Surface, forced to take shelter in the ruins of a city there.
Later, settlers venturing into the northern lands discovered this place and founded Thousand Masts City.
With only a few hundred members, the Shadow Anvil Clan was quickly swallowed by the massive influx of people and faded into obscurity.
The city their ancestors had built became the monster-infested Undercity, a veritable gold mine where Adventurers from all over the Northern Lands came to seek their fortunes.
After learning this history, Colin began to form a theory about Donkexes and his companions’ goal.
’These descendants of the Shadow Anvil Clan... they can’t be trying to reclaim their homeland, can they?’
If that was the case, it would explain why the nobles and merchant guilds of Thousand Masts City were reluctant to associate with them.
After all, if these Dwarves actually succeeded, who would have claim to the Undercity? And what about Thousand Masts City on the Surface? How would the profits that Thousand Masts City reaped from the Undercity be divided?
It was a complete and utter mess, with no clear solution.
At the same time, Colin finally understood Edwin’s earlier warning.
Donkexes and his people likely knew secrets about the Undercity. They were essentially a living walkthrough for it.
If other people found out he could get information out of the Dwarves, there was no telling what might happen.
’And taking it a step further,’ Colin thought, ’maybe the real reason those nobles hired Donkexes to teach their heirs wasn’t just for his skills, but to get more information about the Undercity...’
Just then, Ale’s voice broke his train of thought.
"So, what’s your plan?"
Colin looked up to see the Half-Elf holding her notebook as well.
He said, "Well... if we’re serious about investigating Ora Kaim, I think the Undercity has to be a major lead. What do you think?"
"Mm-hm."
Ale flipped through her notebook. "The first thing we need to figure out," she said, "is why the legions of the Ancient Empire are rising as Undead."
"Most of what we know about Ora Kaim comes from its ancient ruins. I think we might find something new if we explore them, though we’d probably have to venture deep inside."
"You think the ones in Snow Deer Valley could be the work of some Necromancer?" Colin asked.
"Unlikely. The older a corpse is, the harder it is to resurrect. That’s also why the Liches in the East are so warlike."
Ale then showed him a simple map drawn in her little notebook.
She continued, "I know of some other ruins of Ora Kaim. We might find clues there, too."
Colin sighed.
Of course he understood the principles of Necromancy; he just didn’t want to get tangled up with ancient ruins.
In a Magic World like this one, archaeology was an extremely dangerous line of work.
Of course, if the stakes were high enough, he could always try to get Edwin to send a stronger team to investigate.
"These ruins are usually in remote, hard-to-reach places. The one in Snow Deer Valley is in the far north of the world; there’s no way we can get there now."
Colin continued, "If we are going to investigate, the best place to start is the Undercity. I think we should go talk to Donkexes and his people."
"What? We’re going to the Undercity to make money?" Kase cut in excitedly.
"I said ’if’," Colin stated. "If things escalate to the point where they’re causing us trouble, if we become strong enough, and if Edwin and his people agree to give us sufficient support, *then* maybe we’ll go take a look at the Undercity."
"That’s a lot of ’ifs’..."
As he said this, Kase suddenly stopped in his tracks.
He scanned his surroundings warily and whispered, "Hold on. Something’s up ahead."
"Let’s check it out. Don’t tell me it’s bandits or something," Colin said, pulling the helmet from his back and putting it on.
He couldn’t see anything up ahead himself.
But if Kase said so, it had to be true.
The group immediately shrugged off their packs, holding them in one hand while drawing their weapons with the other. They stepped off the road into the grass and crept forward cautiously.
They hadn’t gone far before, sure enough, they spotted a figure by the side of the road.
From a distance, it looked like a carriage parked by the road. In front of it, an old horse was leisurely munching on weeds.
"Looks like someone’s sitting next to the carriage," Colin said, tapping Kase’s forearm. "Go scout the area for an ambush. I have a feeling it might be bandits."
Kase nodded, crouched down, and crept toward the carriage.
The others slowly edged forward as well, ready to provide backup in case there was trouble.
The Half-Orc quickly circled the carriage.
The person beside it remained completely unaware.
A moment later, Kase crept back to them.
"No one else around," he reported. "Just an old human by the carriage."
"Let’s go have a look, then." Colin slung his pack onto his back again and, holding his Giant Sword, led the way forward.
As they got closer, they saw that the figure was an old man in a linen robe and a white shawl. He was leaning against the carriage wheel with his eyes half-closed, a stalk of grass dangling from his mouth, looking perfectly at ease.
Hearing their footsteps, the old man opened his eyes and looked up at them.
He spoke in a low, raspy voice, "Gentlemen, would you mind lending me a hand?"
"What do you need?" Colin asked.
Few people willingly approached their group, so he patiently humored the man.
The old man let out a long sigh and pushed himself to his feet, bracing his hands on his knees.
As he stood up, the group saw that one of the carriage wheels had a large split in it.
"My wheel got busted on a stupid, Demon-cursed rock. Could you help me change it? I have a spare," the old man said. "I’m a Priest from Merlin’s Chapel. Been delivering food to the nearby villages. Times are tough, you know?"
Colin glanced at Orelia, who was standing beside him.
The Tiefling stared back at him with wide, innocent eyes, a look of confusion on her face.
’We’re so close to the White Tower,’ he thought. ’It’s unlikely a Demon would show up here disguised as a Priest.’
"I’m afraid I don’t have much money on me, young folks," the old Priest sighed. "Help me get this wheel on, and the most I can offer in return is a night’s stay at the Church."
"Alright, we’ll help," Colin said, nodding to Kase.
The Half-Orc casually lifted the carriage.
Colin took Kase’s Battle Axe and, using the back of the axe-head as a hammer, knocked the broken wheel off before fitting the spare one in its place.